


you give the light i need

by thegrayness



Series: with our hands over our hearts [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, House Hunting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:06:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: “Okay number one,” David began, “bathroom with a door.”Patrick rolled his eyes but scribbled the idea in the must-have column. “Dishwasher,” he added. Practically.OR: David and Patrick go house hunting.





	you give the light i need

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in...like a really long time. So if there are any mistakes please do not tell me about them lol.

It was Italian night (read: pasta night) at the Cafe, and David always insisted Patrick take him out on Italian night. The placemats were an abstract green, red and white pattern, and some of the free standing tables even had checkered tablecloths draped over them. David took a deep breath to inhale the heavy scent of garlic that he knew would soak into both of their clothes, and he’d be pressing his nose to Patrick’s shoulder, collar, chest all night. 

Patrick, indulgent as ever when David’s face got all delighted and soft like this, ordered a bottle of wine (as was customary on Italian night), their usual appetizers, and let David browse the menu for—appearances. They both knew he was going to order the chicken parm with a fettuccine alfredo side. 

After Twyla floated away with their app order, Patrick cleared his throat and caught David’s hands across the table. 

“David,” he began seriously, squeezing his fingers when David tried to pull his hands away. David’s face did that thing that means he’s playing through the worst scenario that could follow and has decided to engage his flight response. 

David took a deep breath. “You know I hate when you lead with that serious ‘ _David_ ’ so just say more words now, please.”

Patrick smiled softly. “Sorry, but it’s serious. I’ve been thinking about my apartment.”

“...Okay, yes, your apartment, spit it out. Is this about the wine glasses? I told you, _yes_ it’s necessary for stemmed and stemless!” His voice rose to it’s ‘ _I’m 15 seconds away from a full blown spiral_ ’ octave.

“It’s not the wine glasses, god, David, I don’t care about wine glasses.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “As I was _saying_ —I was going over some numbers the other day, as you do, and I—I think we’re in a position to...actually _buy_ a house. If, um, that’s something—something you want, too.”

David sucked in a shuddery breath, blinking rapidly to ease the burn of tears behind his eyes. Patrick squeezed his hands again. “Are you—”

“ _Yes_ , David, I’m sure. We already talked about you moving into the apartment soon. Since, you know, we’re getting married,” Patrick mentioned selfishly, grinning and hoping to see a familiar blush creep over his fiancé’s cheeks. Ever since their engagement, David has gone adorably pink at the mere suggestion that after the wedding...they’ll be _married_. 

“So we’re...buying a house…?” David sniffled quietly, color high on his cheeks. “That’s so—grown-up are you sure we’re allowed?” He pulled his hands away to wipe at his eyes. 

Patrick huffed out a laugh and dipped his head, nodding. “Pretty sure.”

//

“Okay number one,” David began, “bathroom with a door.”

Patrick rolled his eyes but scribbled the idea in the must-have column. “Dishwasher,” he added. Practically.

“Oh yes, honey, good idea.” David nodded and sucked a mouthful of water through his straw. 

“Space in the backyard for a grill,” Patrick continued. “Washer/dryer hookup. Master en suite. Double sink in the master bathroom. I’d like a fireplace but—let's add that to the nice-to-have list.”

Patrick looked to at David for confirmation and found his fiancé gazing back, lips pressed together in a barely hidden grin. “What?”

David shook his head. “Nothing. You just have a lot of practical suggestions for our...new house,” he said, voice quiet across Patrick’s kitchen table. Patrick’s cheeks went pink and he looked down at the pad of paper. 

“I know you probably have a….lot of nice things you want in...our first house,” he started haltingly. “But I want—I think we should maybe set our expectations here—we're buying a modest house in a modest neighborhood and...I don’t think some of the...trappings you’re used to—“

“Patrick,” David cut him off. “You know I’ve lived in Schitt’s Creek for like 5 years now right? For our first date, Twyla fed us freezer burned mozzarella sticks. Consider my expectations successfully _managed_.”

“I just—“

“And _I just_ love you and can’t wait to find a house for us. That being said I will be requiring room for a modest wine fridge in or near the kitchen.”

//

It was David’s early day in the shop (Patrick, the button, opened every single day except Wednesday), and he was spritzing some of the veggies since it was a warm day. His phone dinged from its spot next to the register, and he jumped and scrambled to grab it. It was the sound that he’d set to alert him to new home listings that hit all of their combined must-haves in their preferred neighborhoods. 

He immediately sent a text to Patrick with the details. The response was quick. _Coming in now to cover the store, you can look at the house with Stevie I prepped her on what we’ve talked about so you can’t trick her into helping you convince me it’s something it’s not._

**Bold of you to assume I didn’t get to her first**

_I bribed her with wine_

**I hate you**

_Love you_

//

“Well that was a _disaster_.” David tossed his sunglasses onto the counter and dropped his bag at his feet. “When they say walk-in closet they mean a child could crawl into it. Which is fine because the ceilings were _basically_ touching my hair.”

Patrick looked sympathetic. “Well I know you don’t like your hair to be touched.”

David hummed in agreement. “Well within reason.” He sidled around the counter and into Patrick’s arms. His fiancé nodded seriously.

“Of course, within reason,” he murmured, sliding his hands up David’s back and over his shoulder blades to sink his fingers into the shorter hairs at the back of David’s neck.

David made a squeak he would never admit to and bit his lips to stifle more. “Not at the _store_ , Mr. Brewer.” He put on a scandalized look that really just made him look like he’d seen someone in the midst of a fashion faux-pas.

Patrick made an agreeable noise, but pulled him in to kiss him full on anyway, hands sliding deeper into his locks. He tightened his grip, just a little, just to hear the quiet, predictable groan escape from David’s throat. 

Wrapping his arms around Patrick’s waist, David’s fingers found their way into the back pockets of Patrick’s Levi’s and he squeezed a handful—

“Ding ding!” Stevie called as she swung open the door that already has a bell on it. 

David and Patrick spoke unison, “We’re closed!”

//

“Ray, this isn’t gonna work,” Patrick said as soon as they stepped into the master bedroom. “I can tell from here that closet isn’t big enough.”

“Ah!” Ray said, smiling too big. “But you have TWO closets!” He made his way over to another door that opened to...a hole in the wall.

David, silent for almost the entire, miserable tour, turned on his heel and walked out. 

//

“ _Oh_ my god look at that fucking _porch_ ,” David cried as Patrick pulled into the driveway. “These railings are gorgeous.”

Patrick walked towards the house slowly, watching David fawn over the tiniest details that only he would ever notice and find delightful. He smiled, helplessly, as Ray ushered them both inside. 

Their smiles ended there, because for all the curb appeal in abundance outside, the inside left...a lot to be desired. Patrick appreciated David’s willingness to remain positive even though the tour was going downhill at lightspeed and they hadn’t even made it upstairs yet. 

“So is this a coat closet? That’s nice, huh, extra storage on the first flo—”

“Actually that’s a bathroom!” Ray said excitedly as David opened the door right off the dining room. 

“A bathroom. In the _dining room_?”

“ _Adjacent_ to the dining room!” Ray could very clearly not contain his excitement. 

David nodded, albeit a bit uncontrollably, and promptly walked out of the room and up the stairs. “The ensuite literally just has a _toilet_. There’s not even a sink!”

Patrick scrubbed his hands over his face and headed outside to wait for David. He didn’t need to hear his fiancé stomp down the stairs. 

//  
“Okay, this is nice!” Patrick said, running his hands along the fireplace mantel. 

“It actually is,” David agreed, walking over to the window off the side of the house. “Holy _fuck_ ,” he said flatly. 

“ _Now what_?” Patrick did know how much more house shopping he was going to live through. He headed over to David’s side, where he stood staring out of the window at the house next door. Which was a little too close for comfort. And they were looking right into their neighbor's first-floor master bedroom where they were having very active, very enthusiastic afternoon sex. 

//

“Hey, are we going past Elm Valley?” David asked, craning his neck back to watch the last building fade into the distance. 

“Yep!” Patrick replied. 

He’d been purposely cryptic all morning, saying that he’d found a place to look at and could David please try to keep an open mind about it. David had stared at Patrick’s face, eyes honest and earnest and all the things that made him fall in love. He nodded in agreement before leaning in to press a kiss to Patrick’s forehead. “Sure, baby,” he’d whispered.

Now they were just outside their previously agreed upon radius from the store, heading down a quiet street with the houses appropriately spaced apart to hopefully eliminate the chance of Unfortunate Sexual Encounters. It was a dead end, and there were tall trees between some of the driveways. 

The street was cute—cuter than most of the streets they’d seen in their (long) search so far. And Cute Street was on David’s “nice-to-have” list. They pulled into a short driveway in front of a one-car garage attached to a two-story house. The exterior had definitely seen better days. Could certainly use a paint job, but David was aware, because Patrick had pointed it out _several_ times, that paint was cosmetic and easily fixable. By Patrick of course, not by David. He would not be “fixing” things. 

David kept quiet, honoring his promise to keep an open mind, and stepped out of the car to meander around the front lawn to check out the porch and the existing landscaping, what little of it their was. _Cosmetic_ , he thought to himself. He felt Patrick's eyes on him, but he kept his face purposely neutral—or as neutral as David Rose could be. 

The porch railing needed paint and some of the boards in the far corner had splintered in some places. But it covered the whole front of the house and would almost surely work for him.

“Are we meeting Ray here?” David asked as Patrick came up the front stairs behind him. 

He slipped his hand into David’s and took a deep breath. “I have a confession.”

David smiled warmly. “I already know about the business license frame.”

Patrick laughed, relieved that David could feel his nervousness and diffused it like he always knew how to do. “No, no,” he insisted around another huff of laughter. “It’s about the house. I...was here yesterday with Ray.”

“...Okay?” David was immediately skeptical.

“I wanted to make sure that I’d be able to—let’s just go in, okay? Trust me.”

David bit his lip to hide a grin and nodded, scared and excited all at once. He did trust Patrick. With everything.

Patrick turned the handle on the door, and the wood creaked as he swung it open. “Now _don’t_ panic, okay? Just let me show you.”

David was the one deep breathing now—Patrick knew how well ‘ _don’t panic_ ’ didn’t work on him! He stepped into the open entryway where he could see almost the whole first floor. The previous homeowners must have taken down some walls, because the house looked like it was built before the open-concept craze. The floors needed to be replaced, or at least refinished, and David would be surprised if the fireplace worked at all. 

“Okay.” Patrick stood in front of him and blocked his view as he swept his gaze into the kitchen. “I have a plan.”

“Yeah I...kinda figured that when you gave me your _take charge_ face at the door. I’ll still take calming breaths if you don’t mind.”

Patrick darted in to kiss his cheek, took another deep breath, and started.

“The fireplace works,” he pointed, “it just needs to be refinished and the chimney needs to be cleaned. The floors down here need to be replaced but upstairs we can just refinish them—though to have them match it may just be better to replace those, too, we can check with the contractor—”

“The contractor?”

Patrick just nodded, cheeks going pink, and kept going. He grabbed both of David’s hands and walked him into the kitchen. “This space needs a lot of work,” he began and David’s heart stuttered, because Patrick was saying _space_ like he taught him and not _room_ and he just loved him so much. “But the good part is that we can reconfigure the cabinets and appliances into a layout that allows for an island, or peninsula, which I know you want _despite_ never cooking a single thing in the kitchen in my apartment,” Patrick teased. 

David doesn’t respond for a minute, just walks through the space to the window that faces the backyard. “I like this window. I could watch you grilling—safe from moths.”

Patrick moved to look, too, and wrapped his arms around David’s waist from behind. He gave a soft kiss to his favorite spot on David’s neck. 

“There’s also room for a modest wine fridge. Let’s go upstairs.” He gave David a squeeze and the two of them headed for the stairs. “The stairs are solid, surprisingly.”

“I’m glad since we are _currently walking up them_ ,” David replied, voice raised an octave as the step he was on gave a creak. 

“Trust me,” Patrick repeated. David hummed noncommittally and let Patrick lead him around the second floor. 

“Guest bathroom is actually in pretty good shape.” He let David step into the room first. The size was good, shower/tub combo was convenient, no wallpaper was a plus. “The layout is good, we may want to change out the vanity to here.” Patrick knocked his knuckles against the shell colored surface. 

David stared at his feet. “This tile is really nice,” he said, surprise tinting his voice. 

“Yeah?” Patrick’s smile was wider than ever and David couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss it. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Show me more?”

Patrick took him to the spare bedroom, explaining that it could be an office, but it also has a closet for “extra storage” that David has taken to mean “the rest of your wardrobe.”

They moved to the guest room, and Patrick cut David’s paint color protests off upfront, reminding him once again that they shouldn’t focus on cosmetic flaws. 

“It’s...very pink,” David said anyway, just to mess with him. “But it’s a good size.”

“Master…” Patrick trailed off with a sweeping gesture as he allowed David to head in first. His eyes were immediately drawn up to the tray ceiling, 

“This is _very_ impressive.” 

“Oh then you’ll love this.” Patrick was practically beaming. He opened the closet door—and the closet was a pretty good size—but then he opened the bathroom door to show that it had 1) the correct amount of sinks 2) separate shower 3) a space that looked like a huge tub had been there and could be there again 4) and a linen closet that shared a wall with the bedroom closet. 

“We can take this wall down to expand the closet. If we bump out this wall here,” he pointed to the wall of the bedroom, “the closet will be just big enough to walk into, plus you’ll have a door to it from the bathroom.” 

David bit his lip hard and starting blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the sting of tears around his eyes. It was clear that Patrick spent quite a bit of time here yesterday with Ray (and a contractor?) figuring out how to make the space work. When he was supposedly at a baseball game. How did he even find this place? When did he expand his search?

“When did you expand the search?” He asked thickly. Patrick came over and rested his hands on David’s shoulders. 

“I didn’t, actually. Ray mentioned he was showing this place to another buyer and as he was describing it I thought it might work. And so I—I asked him to cancel the other showing.”

David raised his eyebrows. “You _stole_ this house from another buyer?”

“I already feel bad about it! Anyway, I asked him to show me instead, and based on the pictures I knew it’d need work so I asked—begged—Ronnie to come, too. To manage my expectations on what work could or should be done.”

“Wow, what’d you have to give her?”

“Don’t be mad but I had to promise her 3 bottles from the next Old North Distillery shipment.”

David twisted his mouth into a hidden smile. “I’m not mad, you’re the numbers guy.” He shrugged before leaning in to kiss him softly. “This is amazing,” he mumbled against Patrick’s mouth. “You’re amazing.”

Patrick pulled away but wrapped his arms around David’s waist, fluttering his eyes open. “Yeah? You really like it?”

Snaking his arms around Patrick’s neck, David nodded again. He didn’t want to say anything—was afraid his voice would shake or crack and horrifyingly reveal that he loved Patrick and his heart so much that he was crying over a dumb old house. 

He buried his face against Patrick’s neck and tried to get ahold of himself. Patrick kissed his shoulder and David felt the warmth through his sweater, bringing on a fresh wave of emotion. 

“Let’s look at the backyard,” Patrick said into David’s sweater, voice coming out muffled. 

“Mm, okay if we have to.”

“I think you’ll like it, come on.” He took David’s hand again to pull him along but David stayed rooted to the spot. 

“Wait what’s that door? It’s not a creepy door to nowhere is it?”

“Oh! No, no it’s—don’t think about creepy doors. I can’t believe I let you distract me from this: it’s another,” he swung open the door, “closet!”

David’s jaw dropped. 

“This one is small but Ray said he’d give me a discount on a sweet organization system to maximize the space for my stuff.”

“...two closets..?” David replied faintly. 

Patrick looked just short of smug about it. “C’mon let’s check out the backyard,” Patrick cajoled. The backyard was really what Patrick wanted, most of all. He wanted a patio or a deck. He wanted to eat dinner outside, he wanted to build a fire pit and roast marshmallows for David—who loved to eat them but was not really into the whole roasting part. He wanted David to have space for an herb garden because he talked about having one in a way that sounded like he thought he’d never get the chance. 

David perched perilously on the edge of a rickety patio table near the back door while Patrick walked around the backyard and explained where he thought everything could go. David was not listening, he was gazing adoringly at his fiancé in what he knew would be their new backyard. He knew nothing about buying a house, but he knew Patrick would do everything he could to make sure they got this one. 

“So,” Patrick spread his arms at their surroundings. He was breathing a little fast—he must have been selling the backyard really hard. “What do you think?”

God, David thought as he felt actual tears slide down his cheeks. He hadn’t cried this much since their engagement. Oh god, is this what he was going to be like at the wedding?

“Hope those are happy tears,” Patrick continued, voice going soft. He pulled David up and into his arms, which is where he most prefered his fiancé. 

David nodded vigorously but stilled when Patrick took his face in his hands and wiped at the wetness on his face. When Patrick did sweet shit like this, it always made David squirm, but he let him anyway. After all, Patrick had found them their house. 

“How do we get it? Like. How does this work?” David asked. 

Patrick kissed him then, deep and tender, full of promise and happiness and love. He pulled David in close, as close as possible, and David really didn’t want to be kissing _and_ crying! He pulled away, sniffling quietly, and let out a little huff of laughter that made Patrick grin. 

“Ray’s out front with the paperwork if we want to put in an offer.”

“We do. Want to put in an offer. On our—house.”

Patrick nodded in agreement. “We do.”


End file.
